My Country, My Friend
by bookworm0492
Summary: A Nation at war,a man given the biggest job of all in smack dab in the middle of it, and a blonde assistant who is more than what he seems.The Presidency of Harry S. Truman and seeing his country through..and with his own eyes.


Howdy all, this is Bookworm0492, I know I said Id be working on my Resident Evil Mikey-centric fic but Im unable to get to that so..I thought Id post this instead!

I had never planned on writing this, but it was an assignment for school. Y'see we were given a president to research depending on what number we picked out of 1-43, and I picked 33, and learned it was Harry S. Truman. So the project was either to write a 7 page thesis paper on why our president should be rememered (Bleh) orrrr write a 15-page short story about them.

XD Guess which one IIII picked?~

So, as I did research on Truman, I found out he was a pretty cool guy. Did ALOT of interesting and important stuff. But I was having trouble thinking of what to write about when it hit me....I'd been watching Hetalia lately and thought 'what if Harry met Alfred?'

And so I e-mailed my teacher (no way I was gonna ask him in class) and asked him and he gave me the go ahead the next day! and thus THIS was born!!! I wrote this bad boy, 0o and exceeded expectations by writing 27 pages (my friend nearly kiled me cuz she had to print it out for me) but even then i felt like it was too short. 0o There was so much more I wanted to add but time restrictions and I'd already exceeded the page limit..soo...yeah. XD Its actually a pretty cool story and its educational. Its told from harry's POV and I hope that when you read it you'll see why he became my fav President.

I hope you enjoy it!

My Country, My Friend

* * *

When Harry S. Truman had become Senator in 1934, he had no ambition to go any higher in the political food chain. He liked where he was in the office. He had good friends around him and he was good at what he did. It took a long time to establish oneself in the Senate and he had no problem with sitting back and helping other Senators along in their re-elections and working with his Special Committee.

So when a man by the name of Jimmy Byrnes asked Harry to nominate him for Vice President, he was glad to do the man the favor. He stuck by with Byrnes and was happy to support him, as Jimmy told him that the FDR was 'for him.' But there were a few buzzing flies by his ear that he couldn't seem to swat away. There were colleagues and men of importance, like Sidney Hillman, who wouldn't support Byrnes; he only supported William O. Douglas and Harry S Truman.

Harry firmly told him that he wasn't a candidate, but it seemed to fall on deaf ears as even more people seemed to assume and tell other people that the Senator was up for Vice President. For instance, once at a breakfast at the Palmer House for the A.F. of L., Harry had been invited to dine with them.

It was a pleasant breakfast with good food and a relaxing atmosphere on the bright morning. Harry was enjoying some eggs when Senator George Radcliff came over. "Harry," He'd said, "How'd you like to come shake hands with the Maryland delegation to the convention?" He smiled and set down his fork. "Of course, sounds like a mighty fine idea." He'd gotten up and gone over to the table. 'Perhaps I can drum up some support for Jimmy.' he thought. Approaching the table, Radcliff introduced him. "Gentleman, I'd like to introduce you to Harry. S Truman, Maryland candidate for Vice President."

Oh for Pete's sake.

Harry shook his head. "I'm sorry, but you're very much mistaken. I'm not running. Please tell everyone that."

He'd have reported eachof these incidents dozens of times, but Byrnes always managed to smooth his ruffled feathers. "Now Harry, FDR is a smart man, he'll have this all sorted out." He added with a grin. "Besides, like I said, he's for me right?"

That story started to run thin when Harry had been handed a handwritten note by Bob Hannegan from the presidents very desk saying 'Bob, It's Truman – FDR'

After more denying and straightening out, The President said he would be satisfied with Wallace or Douglas, but then changed his mind _again_(Much to Harry's frustration) when he said he was fine with either Harry or Douglas. With a sigh of annoyance he'd told all of this to Byrnes and he merely returned with "Don't worry Harry, the President still wants me."

Right.

On the Thursday before the Vice President was to be nominated, Hannegan had invited him and several others to the Blackstone Hotel to finally sort the whole business out. Many of them, George Allen, Mayor Kelly and Ed Pauley kept pressuring him to run repeatedly, and the Senator said "No.", repeatedly. It wasn't until Hannegan put in a call to San Diego that the sides tilted.

Holding the phone away from his ear so the deafening voice of the President could be heard, Roosevelt said (yelled) over the phone, "Bob, have you got that fellow lined up yet?" With a sigh Bob said "No, he is the contrariest Missouri mule I've ever dealt with." With an angry tone the president huffed (bellowed) "Well you tell him if he wants to break up the Democratic Party in the middle of a war that's his responsibility!", and with a bang he hung up the phone.

Harry sat in stunned silence as the others watched him without a word. He got up and he paced for a few minutes, looking at the ground, the pictures, but not really seeing any of them. Finally, rubbing his forehead with a sigh he said, "Well…if that's the situation I'll have to say yes, but why the hell didn't he tell me in the first place…"

After some persuasion with Senator Beckett, and a campaign, he was sworn in as Vice President. And there he would have preferred to have stayed, just like he had wanted to be back in military (but was told he was 'too old'), or just stayed a Senator.

But fate it seemed, and as always, had other plans.

On the day of April 12th, 1945, the Senate had recessed on a warm afternoon. Harry stepped outside and took a relaxing walk to speak to Mr. Rayburn, speaker of the house. He saw the other man across the way and lifted his hand, about to call out to him when a secretary came over to him. "Mr. Truman? There's a call for you from the White House." With a raised eyebrow, Harry went over to the desk to hear the voice of Mr. Early, Press Secretary of the President. "Harry? Thank God. Hurry down to the White House; we have a…situation...." The Secretary's voice was strained and hurried. With a calm voice, Harry agreed. "Right, I'll be there soon."

True to his word, The Vice President took the quickest way back to the White House by way of the Pennsylvania Ave entrance and headed directly for the study. When he opened the door, he saw the First lady Herself, Eleanor Roosevelt. She looked haggard and tired, and her eyes were red from crying. He strode over to her. "What's wrong? Is it Frank?" She let out a deep shuddering breath and said quietly. "He's gone Harry. Frank's gone."

Harry stood rooted to the spot. The President. Dead. Not a moment later he reached out to Eleanor. "I'm so sorry…I'll do anything I can to help." Tears seemed to brim her eyes once more, but before she could respond the secretary of state walked in. "Mr. Truman?" Trying to work passed the shock, Harry took a deep breath." Mr. Stettinus, call a cabinet meeting. We've got a lot to talk about."

The rest almost seemed a blur. The cabinet meeting, then being sworn in at 7:09 PM by the Chief of Justice, he barely had time to breath as things began to move. People began asking questions that now only he was authorized to answer. When would this happen? Should they do this? He was asked if the meeting of the United Nations, originally planned for April 25th, should go through and with a nod he gave the go-ahead.

FDR's funeral was planned after a hectic day of shock and mourning. Harry finally had a moment or two to himself so he took a walk through the White House, following the portraits of past presidents and government officials. He stopped in front of a door, the Oval office. He hesitated to enter it at first, but the sickening reminder that he could enter it when he wanted to now had him turn the knob.

Most men would feel that entering the Oval Office, the signature room of the President of the United States, would bring a sense of joy or awe. Or, if they had been striving to fill the seat inside, a feeling of pride supreme achievement.

Harry was chilled.

It was barely over a day ago that his predecessor sat in that seat, and he was sure that with the ruckus and hurry to swear Harry in and drastically get everything under order, the papers that FDR had kept on his desk would still be there as he left them.

The room was grand, as it had been known to be. Large and oval as its name suggested and kept neat and tidy. The decorations of the office had been known to change over time with each president and that was true when Roosevelt took office. The dark blue rug and dark green drapes had been Franklin's choice, along with the added eagle valences and the change from olive green to dark green was another change from Hoover's presidency. It was all how FDR had left it. Harry scanned the room, but then frowned.

All, but _tha_t.

Sitting on the couch a few feet in front of the main desk was a young blonde man. He wore a dark blue suit and with his legs crossed and looked quite comfortable with his arm resting along the back. His spectacled blue eyes were gazing up at one of the pictures on the walls, relaxed and calm as if he were sitting in his own living room.

He had appeared to have not heard Harry come in, so he cleared his throat and the young man started and looked up. "Oh sorry, you weren't here yet so I let myself in." Harry decided to forgo the question of how the young man got in (where was security?) and went straight to the point." Who are you and what are you doing here?"

The kid (and he really looked like a kid not a year out of high school), smiled sheepishly and stood up and extended his hand. "Sorry sir, my name is Alfred F. Jones, I was Frank's assistant when he died, it's a pleasure to meet you." Harry took the outstretched hand with a raised eyebrow. "An assistant? What kind?"

The boy smiled. "A personal one, filing, getting you papers, coffee, food, advice, brainstorming or just about anything else you might need. Heck I'll even tidy up the office if I have the time."

Well, that would explain why he could get passed security, Harry thought. "So, you were working for Frank for some time?" Not too long though, he thought, he's a little young to be among the politicians in the 'Baghdad on the Patamic River'.

Alfred nodded. "Yessir. Quite an experience. "The smile fell from his face. " I'm sure sad to see him go…he was a really good guy." Harry agreed despite having only met him twice…

Harry sighed, once again being violently reminded of the tragedy. "Yes, yes he was. A tragedy for us all…and at such a horrid time…" And with this huge hole for him to fill, there was so much at stake….

His eyes trailed over to the large chair behind the desk. He could see Frank sitting there signing papers or ordering loudly at the assistants and secretaries. Busy Working. Busy running a country.

He walked over to the chair and ran his hand along the arm. He'd never wanted this, much less planned for it. Could he manage to fill the gap that FDR had left him? Could he help this country struggle through and end this war without dire consequences?

Could he fill this chair?

"You know…."

Harry's head snapped up. For a moment he'd honestly forgotten the young man was there. He must have stayed quiet to give the new President a moment to think in his new office, and given the circumstance Harry was grateful. But now he shook his previous thoughts away. "Ah sorry, what was that?"

Alfred walked over to the chair that Harry was standing beside. "You know…Frank, he always had a good idea of what he was doing. When he made a decision, come hell or high water, he stuck by it. And, usually…"he let out a small laugh, "usually, they turned out pretty darn good. They usually worked out for the better…" Harry raised an eyebrow. "Yes he did, but what's your point?"

The young man looked up at Harry, grinning broadly. "Well, he chose you didn't he? So I wouldn't worry about living up to be like him. You can't 'cause you're you, see? But the way I see it, with him wanting you as his right hand man, I'm sure you're going to make a dang good President."

He smiled brightly and confidently, with the hope and optimism only someone so young could have. It was so honest and true, the man couldn't help but feel some of it brush on him. Harry couldn't help a small smile cracking across his face. "Like he chose you I'm guessing?" The smile fell from Alfred's face as he blinked a little in surprise at the question. "Uh, I guess so. Never thought about it that way."

Harry shook his head and started to look over some of the papers on his desk. "You must be something if you're working at the White House at your age." Quick as a flash the smile was back on his face and he chuckled, a slight arrogance in his voice. "Top of my class, graduated early and was majoring in History and Politics. Friend of a friend's brother's cousin who married a Senator recommended me, and after some screenings, bada-bing bada-boom, here I am."

Harry stopped and just looked at the young assistant. "Really."

Alfred nodded. "Really."

The President sat in his chair and started to sort through the rest of the papers and files. "Well then I guess you can put all those advantages to work on your first assignment." Alfred's eyes brightened. "Yessir?" Harry looked up with a small smirk. "One cup of coffee please."

* * *

Franklin D. Roosevelt's funeral came and went. It was a quiet, somber day with a long funeral procession and service. Hundreds had gathered for the service and nearly everyone was crying. The service was long and filled with his many accomplishments and what he did for the country, and his greatness as a man.

When Harry thought back to that day, after the busy years in office, he specifically remembered a Negro by the name of Graham Jackson playing 'Nearer, My God, To Thee' on an accordion, tears streaming down his face.

But, as always, time moves on, and the world continued to turn, the anger and greed of the nations never resting. Harry soon found himself busy at work in the White House, going to meeting after meeting, and then not three months into office, he was off to Europe for a conference with Stalin and Winston Churchill. It had gone well and they had discussed many of the issues and vital points of the post-war situation in Europe. When meeting the Russian, Harry had taken him for an honest man, someone who would stand by his agreements.

Well, everyone makes mistakes sometimes.

Harry sat at his desk rubbing as his temples as he looked down at messages from the Russian leader. The demands were outrageous ,criticisms that the Americans and British were not contributing as much as they could in the fight against Germany, Russia wouldn't give up Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, part of Poland and Bess Arabia and what's more, they wanted Bukovina, more of Finland and were very, very interested in Czechoslovakia, Germany, Greece, Hungary, Iran, Poland and Yugoslavia. Not to mention the military bases in the Dardanelles and a Russo-Danish condominium over the Baltic States. Russia, in short, was very well planning to dominate Eastern Europe.

'An honest man _indeed_.' Harry thought bitterly. He leaned back in his chair and sighed. He'd been constantly talking with his advisors on what to do and things seemed to be coming along, but by God, it was a nightmare to work through. Stalin was very crafty at getting what he wanted and with all these advantages he'd been getting he might very well get it.

He sat forward in his chair, constantly shifting in his discomfort, and looked down at the wood on his desk. It was also hard to progress, when a ghost seemed to hang behind his back. Occasionally while consulting an advisor, they'd make mention of FDR's crafty political abilities. Or someone may mention how well Frank and Stalin accommodated one another.

It was enough to drive Truman mad.

He always thought vehemently to himself 'I am not Franklin; I will do this my way.' But would his way be enough? His judgment about Stalin had been consequential and heck, he just didn't have the experience. He was just going to have to-

"Sir?"

Harry's head snapped to see his assistant, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand. "Are you alright sir?" The President sighed and nodded. "I'm fine Alfred. Thank you." The blonde eyed the various papers and piles of files around the desk with a raised eyebrow. "Um…just how long have you been working sir?" Harry furrowed his eyebrows at the question. How long had it been? He glanced at the clock. Four hours.

The president shook his head. "I'm fine Alfred, just leave the coffee and go. I need to finish these reports…" He put his head back down to the papers and began writing. Although he wasn't looking up he could tell Alfred hadn't moved from the spot and when he was about to order the boy to leave, he tapped something on the desk.

Harry looked up and was face to face with a bicycle deck being held by his assistant. "I think you need a break." said the blonde man. Harry put down his pencil and gave the boy a stern look. "I can't. I have work to do."

"You've been at it for hours." Alfred argued.

"It can't be helped, it's important."

"So is relaxation. At this rate you'll go bald before the middle of your presidency."

Harry stared up at him with annoyance radiating from him, but the assistant just continued to smile and wave the deck in the air, seeming to have no inkling of relenting.

With a frustrated sigh, Harry took off his glances and rubbed his eyes before putting them back on. "Fine. Fine, a five-minute break won't ruin anything." Alfred smiled with a hint of arrogance and victory and grabbed a nearby chair to sit on the other side of the desk while pulling out bag of chips from his pocket. "I hear you play a mean game of poker."

Harry took the deck and began to shuffle it. "I'm decent, won't be making any tournaments though." Alfred let out a short laugh as he rationed the chips. "Great, I can't play worth a darn anyway." After a few shuffles, Harry dealt five cards each and sat back as he observed his hand. Two 2's, a 3, a Jack and King.

They played in silence, switching out cards and betting. As the game went on, Harry frowned. The pile of chips on Alfred's side seemed to be getting bigger. "I thought you said you couldn't play." A cocky grin spread over the assistants face as he lightly fanned himself with his cards. "So I did. Guess you'll just have to up the ante."

Harry let out an unenthusiastic laugh and discarded a 4 and a 7. "Seems that's all I've been doing these days." Alfred raised an eyebrow and threw down a blue chip. "The trouble with Stalin?" Harry nodded tiredly. "He's a tough contender. He has a plan and he carries it out very well. He knows what pieces he needs and will get to them whatever way he has to." Harry matched Alfred's bet with a blue chip.

Tapping the wood of the desk, Alfred looked at his cards. "Like playing against a full deck…" Harry nodded, analyzing his hand. Discarding another card, Alfred tilted his head to the side in thought. "You know, I'd start pulling all the stops." Harry raised his eyes from his cards. "What?"

Alfred continued, his eyes still on his cards. "A bluff is good, but if you're caught on it you up end up with what a man investing in stocks had. Nothin'." Harry let out a small snort as Alfred bet once more. "Oh? And you have another idea?" The young man was thoughtful for a moment and then nodded. "Yeah. The way I see it, if you can't get by with sly tricks, draw a line and just dare em to cross it. Pull out your aces and tell him like it is."

Harry raised an eyebrow as he tossed in a white chip, raising the bet. "And what makes you think that would work?" A bit of the mischief left Alfred's face as he looked at his cards. "I've...read a lot about Russia, and the Tsars and leaders in the past have been a stubborn bunch. Real stubborn. And that's only matched by how dang crafty they are. If you can't trick em, hold back with a gun and bat."

The president looked curiously at the young man. He spoke of the Russians in an odd way, as if he'd met them. "You studied about Russia alot?" The assistant looked up in surprise and the smile returned. "Yes I did. Interesting, but boy is their history messed up." He looked down at their now enormous pot. "Ready to lay down?"

Harry nodded and the boy let down his hand, two pair. A smile spread across Harry's face as he lay down a full house. Alfred laughed and flipped a chip. "Told you I couldn't play worth a darn." Harry chuckled as he gathered up the cards. "Don't worry son, you'll get better in time."

* * *

Any moment now, the bomb was going to be dropped.

Harry sat in the Oval office, surrounded by advisors and assistants. Bess had been by earlier for support, but he asked her to go home. He didn't want her to be here when it happened. He thought back to when he was first told about the plan.

He had been approached by some advisors and a General who had been working with the military weapons division. With his assistant at his side, they'd described to him the plans of the bomb and how it had been in the works and was already being tested. It was decided it would be kept under wraps until it was actually used.

The General had given him a half smile. "We can win this war with this. Those Japs won't know what hit 'em." Harry nodded. "Tell me more when you're done with the testing." Not long after, he'd been sent a message while he was meeting with Stalin and Churchill. 'Test successful, exceeds expectations.'

At the time he hadn't known the force of the bomb, just that it was powerful. One day, during a small walk with Alfred he'd asked. "Did you know about this before I was sworn in?" The young man shrugged. "A little. Frank was getting the testing started and it was going great as far as I'd heard. I figured you'd find out when they decided to brief you. What do you think?"

Harry shook his head as they strolled down the walk. "We have to prevent as much destruction as possible. The Japanese may be savage, but they still have women and children. I'd like to lessen the amount of kids being killed as possible."

Alfred nodded. "Kill a little to save a lot right? This'll be good in the end."

"Yes." The President agreed. "This'll be good. We've got an Ace in the hole that none of them will be expecting. The sooner this war ends the better."

Alfred looked across the large stretch of yard that they were passing by."Besides, they've got to pay right?" Truman looked at him. "What?"

Alfred kept looking away, staring into space. "For Pearl Harbor. They gotta pay. They took us by surprise; we'll take them by surprise. Eye for an eye." His face had hardened and he'd tensed, but his eyes were wild in ...fury..?

Curious, Harry asked, "You lost someone in Hawaii?" Alfred looked up, a smile plastered to his face but the wild look in his eyes till present. "You could say that."

Fast forward and here they were now, on the day of attack. Any moment now the bomb would be dropped on Hiroshima and the effects would be revealed. The atmosphere was tense. The few advisors stood tensely near the desk, Alfred paced back and forth. Harry just sat stiffly in his desk. The decision to drop the bomb had come at a price. They had American POW's in Japan and the chance they'd be killed in the bombing was…very high. 'Kill a little to save a lot' as Alfred had said. His advisors were fine with the ordeal as well. "They'll be well honored. The ultimate sacrifice for their country."

His eyes moved from the blank papers on his desk to his assistant who had sat down in one of the nearby chairs. He was pale and looked a little ill. Harry chalked it up to nerves. Knowing you had helped plan for people to die could unsettle some people easily. The sound of the phone ringing made everyone in the room jump.

Harry snatched the phone from the hook and held it to his ear. "What's the news?" The soldier on the other line answered briefly, but with an amazed voice. "Bomb dropped about a minute ago! It looks like it took out the whole city!" The phone was frozen to Harry's ear. "The whole city?" "Yes Sir! Past the city limits too!" He nodded stiffly. "Keep me updated." He hung up the phone and looked around the room.

"Ladies and gentleman, the bomb has worked."

Alfred looked up. "POW's are gone. It took the whole city?" Harry nodded. "Yeah. Whole thing."

Not long after, Harry made a statement to the entire country. Soon the whole world knew about the bomb and the destruction it wrought. The death count from the blast was estimated at about 70,000 people. 9 out of 10 people about half a mile or less form ground zero were dead.

Hearing this, Harry grew quiet and waited until the informant was out of the room. He turned to Alfred. "We can't use that again unless it's absolutely necessary." Alfred's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Whatever happened to, 'kill a few to save a lot?'" Harry shook his head. "70,000 is more than a few Alfred. The idea of killing all those kids…"

His assistant was quiet. "What if they don't surrender though…?" Harry snorted. "It's hard to imagine that they wouldn't. They may be beasts, but they should know when they are outgunned." Alfred sighed. "I don't know…they worship that Emperor of theirs like he's a dang God. They might not give it up…You know what you'd have to do."

Harry looked up and was taken aback by the…coldness in the young mans eyes.

Such a strange kid.

The President sighed. "I know. The Japanese will be well informed of that. If it comes to that, we'll drop it. For the good of us all."

Alfred nodded. "For the good of us all."

Japan refused to surrender. Three days later, after the Soviet had declared war on Japan, the atomic bomb 'Fat Man' fell on Nagasaki. 40,000 were killed in the blast.

The next day, Japan surrendered unconditionally.

* * *

Years go by. A lifetime to some, a blink of an eye to others. The long awaited end of WWII came and went, to relief of the globe. Russia still held its gaze on the northern country. In a cold war they were held in a deadly showdown, waiting for the other to pull the trigger for the bullet that never came.

Some thought peace would come, but there is no rest for the wicked, and Korea began to stir. An invasion in itself calls the attention of the US, and the president moves to correct this 'breach of peace.'

Sitting in his office Harry sighs as, like many times before, he's pouring over the papers on his desk. But he's grown wiser over time and it doesn't seem as hectic and unnerving as it once was. He's made improvements.

He got a better dang secretary.

Sighing lightly, he rubbed his forehead in the familiar fashion, feeling the wrinkles he's gained over the years. While studying the documents, he turns his head to the side as he hears out in the hallway…singing?

"_Mona Lisa, Mona Lisa, men have named you,_

_You're so like the lady with the mystic smile_

Harry groaned in his chair. Just one person, he came to learn, would randomly belt out tunes in the White House. A Nat King Cole song that was popular now was the melody of the week apparently. The door opened and the tune was better heard.

_"Is it only cause you're lonely they have blamed you?_

_For that Mona Lisa strangeness in your smile?"_

Alfred walked in, starting on the next verse. _"Do you smile to tempt a lo-"_he stopped when he spotted Harry at the desk. "Ah, sorry, was I bothering you?"

There were many things Harry had to master to be President. Patience being one of them.

Lot's of patience.

Harry took a deep breath. "Really Alfred, you're in your twenties, you ought to know better by now." The young man smiled sheepishly. "Never too old to have a bit of fun." And he laughed a bit, and Harry couldn't help but momentarily be confused by his assistant's appearance. He still looked so….so young. Maybe it was his old age but…the more he thought about it, the more his assistant seemed to confuse him. He'd had wild thoughts over the years when it came to certain points but… he shook his head. "That's not the point, as you should know I'm busy as hell with this trouble with Korea."

The smile faded a bit from the blonde's face." Yeah I know, lot's of trouble." As he sat down in the chair he saw the sign on Harry's desk saying 'The Buck stops here' and held back a smile. Odd, usually in tense times he'd try to crack a joke when he could find one. "What's the plan?" Harry picked up a sheet of paper. "I've decided to send in air support and coverage to South Korea, it's not much but its start to get this mess straightened out."

Alfred leaned back wistfully in his chair. "And to think, it won't take long for our boys to get there. I remember when it took months to get from one place to another." Harry nodded absently as he picked through more files." Yes, we've all read how bad it was." Alfred chuckled. "The ships our troops sail on now are like palaces. Definitely not as bad as I remembered on the old sailing ships."

Harry froze, and then just stared at the man in extreme confusion. "You…what?"

A kind but lopsided grin spread across Alfred's face. "Just what I said. It's not as bad as I remembered." The President shook his head in annoyance and disbelief. "That's ridiculous. For you to 'remember' this you'd have to be well over a hundred years old, which you are obviously not."

The blonde man cocked his head to the side, still smiling. "How do you know? You never asked me out right how old I was."

Harry frowned. "I have my resources."

"You read my file." Said Alfred in an amused tone,

If Truman were an easily confronted man he would have winced at the accusation. "I never got a clear answer from anywhere else." And being an extremely honest man he hated having to resort to such antics. But whenever he asked anyone else around the White House about his assistant all he ever received was 'Oh, he's twenty-something' or, 'late teens' and once an older Congressman said with an amused laugh. 'He's an old man in a kid's body.'

Alfred leaned back in his chair. "So, what did the 'official' record say?" Harry sighed, his frustration shown." It said you were twenty-one years old five years ago."

"Do you think that's the truth?" An amused expression stayed on his face, twinkling in the blue eyes behind his spectacles. It was like he was watching someone piece together a riddle and come slowly closer to the answer.

Harry let out a silent groan in annoyance and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Of course not, you barely look nineteen. You _still_ look nineteen even after all of this time, which is absolutely ridiculous. It's an absurd idea. I've nearly spent half a decade with you but…there isn't an explanation. It's not a disease or strange medical condition and I could hardly call it 'aging well'. It doesn't feel human." He looked up at Alfred. "_You_ don't feel human." The man raised an eyebrow at the President. "How so? You had other concerns?"

Harry hesitated, not eager to express the concerns and suspicions he'd had of Jones over the years. Not only were they wild accusations with almost no proof, they made him sound crazy. It _was_ crazy. The aging aside, there were so many other things. His reactions to political decisions, the way he talks about past events (as if he was _remembering_). It wasn't normal, but the alternatives were so drastically absurd it was-

"Harry?"

He looked up from his internal struggle. Alfred was looking down at him from his chair with concern, but mostly curiosity at what might be going through the 33rd President's head. After a moment, he took a deep breath. "You never age. Looking at you now, you still look like the kid I saw lazing in the Oval Office when I first met you. But...even then…you knew…know, so much. You have experience. At times it seems like more experience than our oldest Congressman. You claim to be a history buff but there are moments when you talk as if you were _there._ From a different time, a different age. And when I see our country take economic plunge, or lose soldiers, you take it as a personal blow and, God, even look physically ill. It's not…normal…not...humanly realistic."

Alfred nodded, taking this information casually as if Harry were telling him the scores of a ball game. He had an intrigued attitude, but no sense of the urgency Harry was feeling. He sat up and laced his fingers together on the desk, and while still smiling said "Well, whoever said I was human?"

This time, Harry did wince, but it was in disbelief, and not what he had wanted to hear. He swallowed, all practicalities screaming how nuts this was, but his curiosity and need-to-know urged him to ask the next question. "Then what…who…_are you?"_

The old-young man closed his eyes and then opened them again, and for the first time Harry saw a deep age in them. The blue irises held themselves as if they were weighted with pounds of sand from time. "My name _is_ Alfred F. Jones. That much is true. But my official birthday…is July 4th 1776."

The floor seemed to disappear under the President's feet as he felt he was being thrown over an edge in disbelief.

".._What?_"

Alfred continued as if he had not been interrupted. "Although I'm technically older than that, it was on that day, after fighting many years with my brother, the man who raised me, that I was properly named by him. And it was then I became who, and what I am today." His eyes leveled with Harry's as he spoke. "The Free Republic of the United States of America."

Silence filled the room. The ticking of the clock seemed as loud as a hammer cracking against wood, accompanying the thunderous sound of Harry's quickened breathing. "You are…" he said slowly, as if still processing, "the country?" He swallowed. "As in…a representative?" He finished that lamely as he desperately tried to cling to some sort of relatively normal rationalization.

Alfred shook his head. "No…as in…" He held up his hand and examined it. "The land is my body, the economy, my blood, the people…my soul. The moment the pilgrims settled on this land I existed." He closed his fist and with a coaxing, but sure tone he said. "I _am_ America"

Silence once again choked the room, this time even blocking out the monotonous sound of the clock. They stared at each other. A young man to an elder. A History buff to a seasoned politician. An employee to his boss. A waiting gaze to a shocked expression. A man…to his country?

Harry still could not find his voice as Alfred waited patiently. The idea…was so impossible…and yet…he believed it. Perhaps it was the shock still coursing through his system, but looking at Alfred, seeing the ancient eyes in the body too young for them, remembering the way he always knew what the people were thinking and how at times he spoke like a veteran…

He shook his head then rubbed his temple. "So...when you say your older brother you meant…?" The usual cocky smile of Alfred's returned to his face. "Arthur Kirkland. Known to you as the British Prime Minister's assistant, but to me, he's either England or Britain, just depends on the day."

Harry let out a small breath of disbelief. "My God." He put his head in his hand and thought for a few moments, taking in this…development. He asked the next question as it formed in his head. "The young man assisting the Canadian President? Williams?"

Alfred chuckled. "Matthew Williams. Mattey to me 'cause he's my brother, but mostly known as Canada to others." With a slight frown he added. "If they remember him"

Harry raised his eyebrows, as he heard more, his shock starting to be overridden with curiosity. "Hitler's assistant? The blonde man?"

"Ludwig Weillschmidt, Germany." Truman thought he heard the blonde man mutter 'Dang Kraut' under his breath, but he ignored it.

"Rene' Pleven?"

"Francis Bonnefoy, oui."

"The Japanese Emperor?"

"Kiku Honda…interesting guy."

"Stalin?"

"Ivan dang Braginski." He spoke the last name as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.

The president leaned back in his chair. "Heaven above."

Alfred chuckled. "And that, would be God."

Harry looked up at him. So many questions welled up in his head, each one as broad a topic as the other, right on the tip of his tongue but every one was pushed away with a new thought. .When.

After a moment of hesitation and thought, he picked one. "Why?"

The word was returned with a raised eyebrow and echoed. "'Why?'"

"Why did no one ever tell me about this? How could this have been kept a secret? Didn't they know how…how useful this could have been?"

The young-looking man cocked his head to the side, a suspiciously placid look on his face." You mean how useful _I _could have been."

Harry stopped for a moment, realizing what he said. "Oh. Of course. My sincerest apologies. I just…why has this been kept secret?" Alfred shrugged. "Why does the government keep anything secret?" After a moment, Harry said in a sure voice. "For the protection of our country and citizens of course."

"Then you can think of my secret as a sort of self-preservation. In times of war I simply cannot let myself be pulled this way and that for whatever reason, even if it's for my own boss."

Harry stiffened as a thought struck him. "You didn't trust me. Or, you couldn't." Alfred nodded, the smile running from his face. "Nothing personal. As an individual I'd heard many good things about you and for the most part I trusted Frank's decision. But I had to know for myself and…" He closed his eyes. "…with how abrupt his death was, and in the middle of a war with so much hanging in the balance I couldn't leave much to chance."

The president nodded. He could understand that. "You were afraid I would use you too much to my advantage, rely on you far too often." Another nod.

"But that also brought me to my other reason for not spilling the beans so soon."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed. "There's more?"

Alfred spun his chair a little, gazing up at the pictures on the wall. When he sighed deeply, Harry saw for a moment how young and vulnerable he looked, and it seemed as if he was the age his body showed, but he held himself like an old man gazing across at his memories. "It takes a lot to run a country. You have to dance with politics, understand your decisions and the effects they will have… and you must have a deep compassion to nurture something like you would your family, but with a far greater impact. But most of all…" He looked down from the pictures to gaze at the desk, but looking at something Harry couldn't see. "You have to understand your country. Know the people, what they think, what they feel and most of all, what they need. You have to know what's best for them despite what they ask for."

In a fluid, quiet motion Alfred stood up and brushed off his jacket. "I've spent about five years as your assistant after Frank died and I've watched you closely. I've seen you change and work for this country with more vigor and honesty than I've seen in a long time. You keep a level head in hardships and know how to get the job done. But as well as all of that, you know this country." He smiled. "And to know your country and its people so well, it's as if…"He chuckled. "As if you've met it personally."

A moment passed, and Harry fleetingly thought that it was because of that last statement that Alfred finally revealed himself…because he believed Harry knew him anyway.

Alfred sat back down and looked at the aging man. "We are still very young. One look at me could tell you that. We are strong, and we thrive, but we are still fragile and require great leadership if we are to survive." He smiled. "I need all of the help I can get."

Harry was quiet and Alfred was once again patiently silent. After a few moments of contemplative silence, it was broken with a deep sigh from the Commander in Chief as he sat up straighter and looked Jones in the eye. "A couple of years ago if you had told me this, I'd have fired you and had you committed." The side of Al's mouth twitched as he forced back a chuckle, but said nothing as Harry went on.

"I'd always considered the country's well-being a priority above all others. Always. And I'd…always considered myself close in mind with the people. 'The common man who rose to the occasion' as they like to call me…You say that I know my country well, and my time as president has been well, so now that you have revealed yourself to me…what does this change?"

With a relaxed smile Alfred merely shrugged. "Not a dang thing."

Harry gave him a confused look. "You don't plan to help me?"

The nation smiled slowly and leaned forward on the desk. "But….I've been helping you this whole time."

Harry raised an eyebrow, but then let out a small laugh as he realized. "Right. How could I forget?" The president's assistant chuckled. "Right, how could you? All those days of paper-pushing and getting you coffee? I'm so underappreciated."

Truman held back a small snorting laugh and picked up some papers on his desk. "Yes because I'm sure I couldn't make it without those." He shook his head. "But Id better get back to this situation in Korea…anything you care to offer?" Alfred frowned thoughtfully while picking up some of the papers. "Well he's an easy guy to get along with normally, but his boss…."

* * *

All too soon, the eight years that had landed in Harry's lap as Vice President, flew away as quickly as they came. Soon the elections had come once more, and a new face, Dwight D. Eisenhower, was to take up Harry's post. Once the election was over, he'd briefed the man on the country and world affairs and all that he would need to take up roost in the Oval office.

All accept one... but he was sure Alfred would handle that one.

He smiled fondly as he recalled the last time he saw the man before he and the Mrs. left the White House for the last time.

He'd been standing outside as his things were being moved from inside the House to trucks outside. He'd been standing there observing when he felt someone walk up beside him. "So, you gonna miss this place?" Harry cracked a smile. "You really know how to crack a wise one. This place never felt more like a prison."

Alfred snorted. "It couldn't have been all bad." The former President shrugged. "No, but I prefer Missouri all the same." The movers nearly had everything packed, time was running short.

Alfred cocked his head to the side as he kept watching." So, any regrets?" Harry shook his head. "Not in the least. I've done my best, and I'm confident to say I've made a fair contribution to the U.S."

"I'd agree to that." The other said.

The trucks were loaded; it was about time to leave. Alfred turned to Harry, his customary cocky grin on his face. "Mind if I offer a parting gift?"

The man raised an eyebrow. "Depends on what it is."

The nation chuckled. "Just think of it as a symbol of our time together."

He held out his hand to Harry. "It's been an honor working with you sir." The handshake was returned with a strong grip. "I should be saying that to you."

Jones chuckled and stepped back. "Not really, what is man without a good leader?" And with a wave and a smile he turned to head back into national building, yelling as he went inside. "You really did give em Hell!"

Chuckling Harry looked down in his hand to see what had been slipped into it. He let out a laugh and held it up between his forefinger and thumb.

After it glinted white in the sun, he slipped the poker chip into his pocket.

* * *

And there ya have it. My story for Civics. XD Ill admit, it was a bit of hell to write at times but it was fun all the same. I wanted to keep Alfred in character but I had to keep him really serious too. XD And I have top admit it was fun getting into Truman's head. Id've actually liked to meet the guy but sadly he died. T_T But as you can tell theres tons of historical references in there, supplied by own knowledge, but mostly by books, online research and my Flute teacher who ironically used to live in the same town as Truman and said that he was his favorite president. XD fate certainly smiled on me for this one.

A part of me wants to rewrite this and add aton more,eleborate on some stuff, add more scenarios but another part of me wants to leave it as is in its simplicity. (If you can call this simple..) But why dont you guys tell me? XD Id love feedback on this.

Thanks for Reading!!

Bookworm0492

P.S Hetalia makes history FUN!!


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